(OPEN) COMMUNITY MESSAGE BOARD @ STARTER BASE

[shuckit]

▶ WHO: Everyone!!
▶ DATE: July 9th 2015
▶ WARNINGS: none thus far
▶ SUMMARY: A place to share your ic infos, if you please! Thomas is a freaking busy body, and he wants to get all the clues about this place gathered up, so he's going to start writing stuff he's found/woke up with onto a wall in one of the labs, and leave notes around the compound for others to do the same.



[ in one of the lab rooms, you'll find a message (possibly with more messages) scrawled on one of the walls (literally ON TO it, with either pen or a marker). it reads: ]



[ because thomas is super good about being specific. and communicative. but basically, that's what he's posting here - notes. clues, useful information, curious things - information. the advantage the gladers had in getting out of the maze was that they were united, and cooperating for the same goal. thomas doesn't know anyone here, and only has maybe two pieces of what's a much larger puzzle. he needs the rest.

so, around the compound, you'll find scraps of paper that have been taped or pinned to walls (or written directly onto them) that read in the same handwriting: ]

SEE LAB ROOM [[ ROOM NUMBER HERE ]] FOR INFO

IF YOU FOUND SOMETHING, WRITE IT DOWN

[ again, he is awesome at being verbose. if your character decides to investigate the room, they'll find thomas's notes already pinned or written onto the wall, plus whatever is left in the comments below. thomas himself will likely be around more often than not, reading things, scrawling stuff of paper, looking contemplative, or being passed the fuck out in a corner, if they want to bug him. ]


[[ ooc; okay so thomas is a nut, and also i thought we could use an icly set up means for characters to share the clues they woke up with/stuff they found/whatever other information about stuff going down. if you want, put up a top level for the actual note your dude/dudette is leaving, and idk people can tag into it if they want to seek your character out and bug them? or write notes under the note you left? idefk, let's do stuff, go wild???


PS, IF YOU WANT THE TL;DR VERSION OF THIS, i tried organizing an IC list that Thomas would have made over here. It's not perfect, so don't consider that like end all be all, but thought it might help. ]]

Comments

[zombae]

[It takes a while, but eventually a boy enters the room: head down, grey hoody pulled low over his face. He stops in the doorway when he notices there's someone else in the room, but after a moment he just nods slightly in greeting and edges over to the board.

Acting normal's probably the best way to be taken for exactly that. He fidgets, reading over new board additions, hoping that the stranger in the room will just leave.

Then he turns to his own. His mind's been racing since the last message, trying to figure out if he should just drop some of the Neurotriptyline off and go back to shut himself in his room until someone figures out if they can replicate it.

(It's unlikely to be possible, he knows that. And not within a week, not even with top scientists and a fully functioning lab).

But the other thing he knows is they'll need an experiment subject. And there's no one else here he's aware of who could offer. So he leans up to write on the wall.]

I will. By tonight.

[shuckit]

[ as people filter in and out, thomas tries not to seem like he's paying much attention. mostly just watches out of the corner of his vision. the hoodie kid gets a short nod of his head, before he's direction his vision back down to the page. he does linger a lot, though - thomas getting the idea he'd rather be alone.

on a normal day, he'd respect that and head out. not so much at the moment. this isn't a conversation he wanted to have posted up on the wall, so he's hanging out until whoever he or she is that posted up that note. sorry, dude. he at least pretends to be paying more attention to the pad of paper in front of him.

at least, until he reaches up to write his note on the wall. with his back turned, thomas tilts his head up to watch, body tensing some with something he can't really put his finger on, but his tone comes out even, if not with a small tint of sympathy. ]

How long 'til you need another dose?

[zombae]

[Kieren's shoulders tense sharply. Though it had to happen sometime, he couldn't just show up with a syringe of strange green liquid and his bleached out eyes and skin and ask that people not ask questions. Still, he glances toward the door before deciding that's a stupid, pointless idea.

He hugs his arms round himself, but he doesn't turn round just yet.]

Um, every day. [His voice comes out tight in his throat, and he coughs to smooth it out again.] I have to take it every day. What I've got should last me a week.

[shuckit]

[ if he runs, thomas wouldn't be stopping him, but he wants to help. people back home didn't have the option of getting better. newt didn't, and god, if what this kid has can fix the flare as well, thomas is going to be sick with himself. but this guy's right - no one chose to be like this, and they're victims as much as anyone else.

most people here aren't going to care. partially, he can't blame them for wanting to survive, but one guy who isn't contagious isn't going to make a difference so long as it's handled. that's the part people won't get.

so, less than a week. that's what they have. thomas breathes out slowly. not much, but it's better than nothing. ] We'll take the smallest amount we need to test it. Try to conserve what you have, and...

[ he breathes out slowly, pausing. ] Find somewhere we can lock you, if we run out of time. Don't tell the others.

[zombae]

[Kieren's shaking his head hard before Thomas is done talking, arms wrapped round himself bracingly tight.]

No, I don't... want to be a risk to everyone. If it gets too close I'll leave or... find somebody with a gun and...

[For someone who killed himself once already, suggesting someone else finish the job proves to be remarkably difficult. Kieren's teeth grate hard against each other as he settles himself again. He's not running. Not when someone's trying to help him, no matter how impossible it might sound.]

And I could try not telling people. But, I think they'll have questions.

[He turns round, then, head ducked at first. But then he tilts his chin up, meeting Thomas' eyes with his own blank ones and a smile it doesn't look like he's practiced for a very long time.]

[shuckit]

[ find someone with a gun and... something seizes up tight in thomas, and he has the immediate kneejerk urge to protest. no, there's another way, there has to be, we just have to make it happen. somewhere in the back of his mind, the words 'please, tommy' echo, twined with a gunshot that still rings in his ears. ]

You... don't have to. We can put a cell together, until--

[ what if it doesn't work? what if they can't find what they need to make more of the treatment he needs? what'll you do, thomas, just make him sit in a cell, clawing at the door while his mind rots? he swallows, not picking up the sentence.

the boy turns and thomas's eyes go a little wider when he sees him. not a crank - definitely different. dead does seem apt, but not crazed, or even sick looking, other than being really freaking pale. plus, the eyes. he pushes away from his table, pacing over to the message board, and goes about pulling off all the notes from their conversation. it'd be too easy to come to the same conclusion thomas did, if they read it. ]

Just... keep the hood up. Try to stay out of sight for now. Stay close to someone you trust - someone with a weapon.

[zombae]

Sounds just like home.

[Let him tell you about the day his family thought they were coming for him and waited with guns and baseball bats for the vigilantes. Only to watch them execute an old woman in the streets, in his place. It's not a life he enjoys, but it was getting better at home.

Now he's back somewhere he belongs to the enemy. If he could taste, there would be a bad one in his mouth right about now.

He shrinks back a little as Thomas comes over, but gradually unfists his hands from his sweater, watching him carefully strip back the post-its.]

The medicine, though... I found it in the med bay here. Maybe they were working on it, too.